Lissa fell, got up, danced, and still constantly felt she was absolutely fine because it was still light outside, even as everybody else started to drift off. She wanted to dance on and on. The relief of it all was quite something.

Finally, there was a massive circular “Auld Lang Syne,” and when the music stopped, you could feel, at last, the chill of the spring night come on them, and she found herself shivering. Jake immediately took one of the blankets off the hay bales and put it around her shoulders. She smiled at him gratefully.

“Thanks,” she said. She looked around. The previously shy teenagers were now snogging their heads off by the side of the barn. Cars had vanished from the fields, and the lowing of cows, disturbed by the recent noise, reached them across the distant fields.

“Walk you home?” said Jake, handing her a large glass of water that she downed in one.

“Oh, thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”

“Fierce stuff, the elderflower,” said Jake.

“Uh-huh,” said Lissa.

They headed out, and she put her foot into a massive muddy rut on the road and nearly stumbled over. Jake put out his arm to steady her and, once he had done so, left it there.

“So,” he said. “You had fun.”

Lissa’s tongue felt thick in her mouth, the way it did when you’re trying to explain something but can’t quite remember how, but somehow feel that regardless, it’s still very important to get out what you mean. In other words, she was a little drunk. Pinpricks of stars were appearing overhead.

“I did,” she said. “I did, you know. And for the first time . . . for the first time . . .”

She heaved a breath.

“I wasn’t . . . It was like I was just feeling lighter. Just living in the moment. Not anxious, not scared every second of the day. Not terrified for whether I was safe.”

“Is that because you were pished up, though?” said Jake with a smile.

“Yes . . . No!” said Lissa emphatically. “It’s because when you’re dancing you can’t really do anything else. Not when you’re trying to remember the steps and how they go.”

Jake kindly did not mention that not one single time had Lissa managed to remember the steps and how they went.

“You just have to get on with it. And then you manage it, and it’s fun, and it’s just different from everything, and everything else falls away, and all you’re doing is dancing.”

She attempted a pirouette in the middle of the road. Jake steadied her again.

“Oh! Sorry!” she said, realizing she was blundering. “But,” she went on, “it’s been so hard . . .”